


There ... and back again?

by TheDwarfess



Series: Journey to Erebor [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Chemistry, Drama, Dwarves are a High Culture, F/M, Physics, Romance, Self-Insert, Some hurt/comfort, maybe fix-it maybe not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-12 06:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3346964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDwarfess/pseuds/TheDwarfess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suddenly I lusted for an adventure. One like that of Bilbo Baggins. There and Back Again. To forget the stress of everyday life just once. Just … anywhere but here. Just once … I want to live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue or Out of thr Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Hin ... und wieder zurück?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3305123) by [TheDwarfess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDwarfess/pseuds/TheDwarfess). 



> This translation of my 'Hin ... und wieder zurück?' was made by a friend of mine.  
> So thank you very much, Yannik, for this beautiful translation!

Tuesday. 13:20. Schools out. Hurrying the 200 metres to the tram station. Not wanting to wait 10 minutes. Walking fast and tanklike through the crowds of students. 703 is arriving. Clattering Doors. Entering. Sitting down. Backpack open, taking book, cellphone and headphones. Plugging them in. Music on. Opening the book, reading.

 

That's how the story of Miriam Schmied starts. My story. As always on every damn weekday the same half an hour tram ride home. As long as my bag wasn't to heavy, I would always carry a book with me. Sometimes the Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Dwarves by MarKus Heitz, the Sharp's-Series by Bernard Cornwell and today … The Hobbit – in English. 

I can't remember how often I read this book already. One could say that I knew the German as well as the English version by heart. As often as I had watched the films I could even synchronise the main characters the best of which was my Gollum imitation.

 

The music was at a pleasant volume while I read my book. I pretty much ignored it. I only used it to keep the sound of the tram away. In a sharp turn the driver accelerated and I had to hold to my seat to stay seated. _Sunday driver_ . I turned the page. On the right hand side an illustration by Alan Lee appeared. I was able to draw quite well but something like this was above my level. The tram jerked up and down and squealed a bit. For me the half an hour tram journey was somewhat of a time-out. A time of the day where I could just rest for a while. But that would end as soon as I arrived at home. Homework, learning for tests, helping my dad in the household, just doing something here and there and so on and so forth.

 

_ Dong. 'Schlüterstraße / Arbeitsagentur. Umsteigemöglichkeit in Richtung - Connections to – Hauptbahnhof, Südfriedhof, Neuss, Ratingen.' * _

The to me well known announcement was audible even over my music. It wasn't necessary for me. After all this years I knew the way very well. The movements of the tram were always the same and easily remembered.

Annoyed that I had to change trams, I shut the book and put it under my arm. Then I stood up shouldered my backpack and moved to the next door. I pressed the button. While the tram was breaking I looked behind my back.  _ Shit! _ As so often the 712 was already at the station.  _ Open the door already! _ Like a sprint racer I stood behind the door waiting for the starting signal. As soon as the door was slightly ajar I squeezed out ran across the junction onto the other platform and rushed through the door of the 712.  _ Oh man, it's full again...' _ I sighed, resigned to my fate and leaned against the wall near the driver's cabin. The doors closed loudly.

Than the tram accelerated rattling over the rail road switch towards Ratingen.

I took my book from under my arm and read on. It was the 'Misty Mountain' scene as I called it. Exactly that scene in which Richard Armitage as Thorin sings the song in the film. His enchanting voice reverberated in my head along the verses. A pleasant shiver ran down my spine while I felt the magic of the words and the atmosphere. The magic seized me. Suddenly I lusted for an adventure. One like that of Bilbo Baggins. There and Back Again.  _ To forget the stress of everyday life just once. Just … anywhere but here. Just once … I want to live. _

Distracted by the book my music sneaked into my head.

_ '...kein Weg zurück. _

_ Das weiße Licht rückt näher, Stück für Stück. _

_ Will mich ergeben. _

_ Muss ich denn sterben, um zu leben?'** _

I can't really remember what happened next. Just moments after this verses there was aloud bang, metal creaked and glass splintered. I remember horrifying pain, splinters of glass in my body, vast quantities of crimson blood, the taste of iron on my tongue … and Thorin Oakenshield, standing there with his pipe in his hand, starting to sing.

 

_ Far over the Misty Mountains cold _

_ To dungeons deep and caverns old _

_ We must away, ere break of day _

_ To find our long forgotten gold. _

 

It was the last I heard before I fell into eternal darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are some things left in german, because miriam is from germany. it felt better, to leave it in the original language.  
> here are the translations.
> 
> *  
> Dong. 'Schlüterstreet / employment agency. Connections to central station, southern cemetery, Neuss, Ratingen.' 
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> '...no way back,  
> the white light comes closer, step by step.  
> Want to surrander  
> Do I have to die, to live? ...'
> 
> -from "Out of the Dark" by Falco


	2. Problems or Stayin' Alive

As I opened my eyes I noticed that something wasn't right. Instead of a hospital room I saw some bees which feasted on a group of dandelions. The twittering of birds clearly audible and the blue sky streamed over the green carpet I was lying on. Only then I noticed that I wasn't feeling any pain. Unbelieving I looked at myself, sweeping my body for injuries but found none. Then I raised myself so that I sat on the pasture. Next to me was my sling bag. Now there were three possibilities for my sudden appearance on this meadow:

_ A dream? _ I thought about it. In my dreams I always found strange things, things that were unrealistic. Often I could even steer the direction my dream was going. But this felt too real to be a dream.

_ Am I dead?  _ That would be possible. But I didn't feel dead. At least I imagined the life after death to be different. That I would see those people again that died before me. Me grandparents, my uncle and my mother. And then of course a bit mixed with what you know from church: Angels, Saints, Jesus and God on his throne.

This location had something paradisical but it wasn't the paradise, it was too … well, it was too empty. I was definitively the only human being on this meadow. So there was only one possibility …

_ I … am alive.  _ I took a deep breath and opened my mouth as if to say something, but closed it again.  _But … where the hell am I?_ This green meadow with a few deciduous trees here and there was definitely NOT in Dusseldorf. But in a strange way I was completely indifferent about this fact because the surroundings just invited one to relax. This was simply pure nature. It was simply beautiful. So beautiful that I just let myself sink down onto the grass between the dandelions to rest for a while. Before I knew what was happening I doze off.

 

A loud grumbling from my stomach awakened me. It was already evening. The sun was close over the horizon. The mechanical clock on my necklace showed that it was 18:24. I hadn't eaten since this morning in school. Hoping to find something in my bag I opened the zipper ans searched for something I might have left over but my hand found nothing.  _Shit!_ Of course my bottle of water was empty, too. _Today of all days I just had to be ravenous while in school._ Well I couldn't do anything about that now, could I? Slowly it got chilly. I started to shiver and closed the zipper of my black leather jacket.  _Maybe I should call someone._ My hand groped for my mobile in the pockets of my pants but …  _It is gone! Shit, where is my mobile?!_ For a few minutes I searched through my things but my mobile was still missing.  _Great. Not that as well? What now? If I will stay here for the night I have to make a fire to stay warm. But how?_ There were possibilities but only one was possible to me. But the question was if I managed to light a fire like the Neanderthals.  _Now it would be useful if I would be a smoker. At least then I would have a lighter … ._

I got up, shouldered my backpack and went towards the next grove. As I arrived there I started searching for tree branches to use as firewood. It wasn't easy and I needed till after sunset. The small sliver of the waxing moon gave nearly no light. Clumsily I tried to spin a stick fast enough to light a fire but I had no luck today. The stars shone brightly from the clear sky which was something I hadn't ever seen while in Dusseldorf when I finally gave up. I was completely knackered, my head hurt and I was starving and very thirsty. I just wound up my clock before finally falling asleep in the grass.

My sleep – as far as you could even call it that – was short and restless. I was cold regardless of how I curled up. The time grew hazy as well as my thoughts till finally everything sunk into darkness.


	3. Is that a joke?

****Slowly my thoughts returned from under the dark blanket of unconsciousness. I had the strange feeling that something heavy and soft was lying atop of me.

“We have to go on!” a deep man's voice seemed to reached my ear from far away.

“Thorin, we can't just let her lying out here!” said another directly above me.

“We can't take her with us.” replied Thorin.

The one above me sighed annoyed. “Didn't you see that she didn't even manage to light a fire? If we leave her alone she will surely meet her demise!”

“Pffff. What is a female who can't even light a fire even doing out here? It's her own fault.”

“THORIN OAKENSHIELD! She is NOT from here. I don't know what kind of world she comes from but one thing is clear: the need to light a fire is not commonplace there!” countered the other enraged. A warm hand touched my cheek. Fluttering my lids opened. I needed some time until I could see clearly again. Beside me an old man with a grey bushy beard was kneeling. He was wearing grey worn garments and a pointed hat and was smiling kindly.

“Wha...”, I couldn't speak further. My voice had left me.

At once the old man put a water bottle to my lips. Greedily I drank the cool liquid.

“Slowly, slowly”, he said and took the bottle back again, “You have nothing to fear for you are safe.”

“Where am I?”, I asked with still scratchy voice.

“You my dear are in Middle-earth.”

“That, … that's a joke, isn't it?” This wasn't he best moment if someone wanted to make fun of me.

The old one raised an eyebrow. “I don't make jokes. I am Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey.”

_Am I completely off the rocker now? Or do they think me an idiot?_

“Yes and I am Father Christmas! Thank you but what do you take me for?”

The man started to laugh. “That I doubt! From your reaction I can guess that you don't believe me. So look for yourself!”

_If he really wants me to …_ So I sat up and looked around. I still where I tried to light a fire last night. What I didn't notice: A path went around the grove and looped towards the rising sun. A group of around a dozen men on horses was on just that path. Some of them had dismounted and stood a few meters away from me. Many of them had vast and sprawling beards which were braided elaborately. The men were quite small. Most likely they wouldn't even reach my shoulders. One of the group was even smaller, was without a beard and was – different from the others – barefoot. They all wore archaic clothing and were armed except for the smallest one. The bearded men – there were 13 of them – seemed to be dwarves while the barefooted one - God forbid – seemed to be a hobbit.

_Am I in “_ Verstehen Sie Spaß?* _” or so? If yes, this is very tasteless._

“You still don't believe me, do you?” 'Gandalf' said. He sighed and then asked: “Did you experience something strange lately?”

“What's it to you?” I replied harshly.

“Why are you so unkind? I only want to help you!”

Was he serious? “Help me? By trying to derange me? I'm not so stupid to fall for your jabbering! You can't expect me to believe you that this is Middle-earth! Don't make me laugh!”

“You died in your world, didn't you?”

I faltered and horrified I faced 'Gandalf'. _Died._ Memories of the incident in the tram flooded my mind. The pain, the blood. My bowels clenched as I became aware of the fact that the old man had to be right. This couldn't be a joke but the cruel reality that this REALLY was Middle-earth.

“Good God!” I coughed.

Then the tears came and I hid my face in my hands. What would those from whose life I had been ripped do now? _Dad …, Anna …, Lucas …_

The old man put his arm around me. At first I tried to resist but then I relented. “Shhhhhhh.”

Between all the sobs I muttered an apology into his shoulder. I had done him awful injustice.

“It's alright, my dear.”

Slowly I started wondering for the why. Why was I here? I lifted my head from Gandalf's shoulder, faced him with teary eyes and asked him.

“I … don't know. The gods will have their reasons. But you won't have come here for no reasons.”, he answered softly.

“Thanks.” I murmured. “My name is Miriam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * literally "Understandin' jokes?"  
> it's a german tv show where jokes beeing played on unsuspecting people. if there is a british/american version of it, please tell me :-)
> 
> \-----  
> if it didn't become clear: miriam didn't forget middle-earth, she just forgot everything about LotR and Hobbit. that's why she doesn't recognize thorin.  
> it wouldn't be good for the story of the books if she knows everything. so she doesn't know.  
> it's going to get explained next chapter.
> 
> TD


End file.
